Horses Poem by Gregory Orr
Horses
I brace my knee against
one side of the lifted bale
and tug at twine until
it bursts and loosed hay
tumbles from the high loft
over the bowed heads of horses
waiting in the barn's shadow.
In dream, the red one stands
by my bed,
wide-eyed and quiet,
though with her mane afire.
Or galloped over quick fields,
it is her neck that sweats
beneath my hand, her sides
heaving between my thighs.
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12/5/2025 7:09:26 PM # 1.0.0
